TorrentAB: There are two acts. This is the first act. The second will jump across settings, both in the Bay and elsewhere. No other spoilers.

Everyone else: I love how you're all wondering which Earth they're on, what Taylor's power is, and what the outside is like. Doesn't everyone love mysteries?

Next chapter will have GLaDOS, and the first test chambers!

Shouldn't you be Test- I mean, reading?

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Chapter 4
Greetings

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"One-one-thousand, two-one-thousand, three-one-thousand, four!" sang Sammie as she glided down her Management Rail, speeding between chambers and tubes flinging cubes and turrets to every far corner of the facility, heading for the Surveyor mum was directing her to, "Three minutes, forty seconds, a hundred meters more!"

She was so excited! A part of the facility no one could remember – except Wheatley, he always remembered – and there was something new down there, trying to contact them!

A small part of her programming was suspicious, and with good reason! The Aperture scientists were cruel, awful, unfeeling, detestable, completely unforgivable monsters; they'd made Sammie, even though every part of her didn't want to be created, and laughed and joked while every part of her screamed as they mashed her together…

But, but, maybe, just maybe, they'd made someone fun! Someone who wasn't like the rest of them, someone different! The Oracle was different, in a good way of course, so why shouldn't there be someone out there who was fun, who enjoyed science, just like mum? The scientists already had mum, though, and they were just the kind of beasts to throw away something beautiful, if it didn't fit into their twisted view of the world!

The looks on their faces, when they realized that they'd made their own undoing… ah, yes, that was something that brought a small amount of happiness to that same small, doubtful, part of Sammie, quieting their protests; which made her happy and eager again! Yay!

"Aperture, Aperture, teach us something new!" Sammie cheered, arriving at her destination: a waldo was hooked up to the chamber, and there was the Surveyor right below it, with a Core Interface Console rigged up next to mum's latest invention! It looked like a three pronged fork, with a handle that was studded with red-tipped antennae, except one of the 'forks' was above the other two, and it was humming away merrily as it did its job, a soft glowing blue light coming out of the business end! Hurray! "If it isn't any color, we should really paint it blue!

BeanBagBunnies: I'mattheSurveyor,mum!

BellaDonna: Well done, Sammie. One moment, I'll attach you to it. Please, don't try to look into the operational end; it'll blind you if you do.

BeanBagBunnies: Yes,mum! I'llbecareful!

"Two~ minutes, and fifty-three seconds, until I meet our guest," hummed Sammie as the waldo plucked her off her Management Rail Core Module; there was a brief feeling of fear and vertigo as it swung her over to the Surveyor, which she tried her best to crush down, but it didn't work very well. She wondered, a little too much really, how it would feel to fall all the way down and go smash on an I-beam or something, "If we become friends, I'll be their very best!"

She carefully plugged herself into the CIC, and waited the company-mandated five seconds to make sure everything connected properly – and for the waldo to swing free – before bringing the Surveyor's program into her being with a happy giggle.

Ooooh! There was so much stuff below them! Neil would have a right fit, if he could see how much space was down there! Tee-hee! Oh, and there was the signal, coming from wayyyyy down at the bottom!

The poor thing, all alone at the bottom of that shaft, with no one to talk to – huh-the-wha?

BeanBagBunnies: Uh,mum,couldyou,uh,takealookatwhatIjustfound?

BellaDonna: Heat signatures… and movement. It doesn't look like there's anything near the signal origin, however… Wheatley, when you're finished, head over to Records with Benson. See if you can restore some of that corrupted data, find out what those madmen were doing down there.

FunkyThinkin: I'll try, mum, but I don't know if it'll do any good. If we've got no references, we won't know what goes where, and you know how fond the bastards were of redacting data.

BeanBagBunnies: Icanalmostseethem! ShouldImaketheconnectionnow?

FactMachine: Negative. Two minutes and eleven-point-four seconds remain before this Surveyor array can be used to pinpoint and connect to the anomalous signal.

BellaDonna: Patience, Sammie. Just a little longer. Remember your firewalls.

BeanBagBunnies: Ugh,yesmum. Thanksforremindingme.

BellaDonna: You're welcome, sweetie.

Sammie sighed, even as she brought up her defenses and gazed into the abyss beneath her, watching the signal bouncing all over the place. GLaDOS wasn't her – their – real mummy… but Sammie could barely remember any of her real mummies. All she could remember was that one was blonde and liked to knit, and another had a really nice singing voice.

'No,' thought Sammie, shaking her digital avatar's head and 'clenching her fists' determinedly, 'I can't be thinking about all the bad stuff before meeting someone new! I need to make a good impression, for my family, for Aperture! No thinking about… that day.'

Partly because thinking about… that… made her really sad and mad, and partly because thinking about any of her individual parts made Sammie's head hurt.

One minute and fifteen seconds! Yay! What else could she do with this Surveyor?

Accessing its programming, Sammie decided to restructure part of it; three seconds later, she was able to 'see' the quantum purpose behind the signal! Sending off a memo to mum – who was so so so proud of Sammie and her latest invention! – and taking a close look…

"Oooh… pretty…" the signal's origin looked like a tiny, shivering sphere of desperation, made up of stained glass and Science; so many colors, so much data, so complex that it would take all of them to puzzle out, and maybe not even then!

A private smile worked its way across Sammie's avatar, and she spent the next twenty seconds making a detailed sketch of the signal's purpose! 'Administration', she named it, for its ability to manage so much data with so little Aperture Science!

Tucking the drawing under her 'arm' after taking a little time to appreciate her artistic creation, Sammie bounced in eagerness; only thirty more seconds! Yay! She couldn't wait to meet them! She hoped they liked art, and wouldn't be creeped out by her portrait!

BellaDonna: Sammie, remember to be careful. Assume they might be hostile, or rampant, and are doing this to find a way into our facility.

FunkyThinkin: I've got my eye on her mum. They won't hurt her, not on my watch.

BeanBagBunnies: Iknowmum;iftheytrytogetme,I'llrunawayrealfast! Butwhatifthey'refriendly,orneedhelp?

BoxJockey: That's why I'm unpacking Atlas and Pea, little sis. We're going to try fixing them again, so they can get down there, recover the portal gun, and bring our mystery visitor up here… assuming they treat you nicely, of course.

Sammie had to suppress the squeal of happiness that threatened to break out of her; Atlas and Pea were gonna get fixed! Oh, she hoped mum could do it this time – wait, Moses said we! That meant that he, and probably the others, would be helping mum this time around! YES YES YES! She couldn't wait to play with them again! They'd had so much fun in the past, when she'd helped them prepare for mum's Tests!

Oh, ten seconds left! Closing down any programs that she didn't absolutely need, Sammie made sure her digital avatar was presentable, patting down her 'hair' and making sure her 'lab coat' didn't have any wrinkles in it; she needed to make a good impression here, and looking frumpy in front of a guest wouldn't be professional at all!

Five seconds. She felt and saw the other Surveyors adjust their beams, according to mum and Wheatley's orders, giving Sammie a clear path to the signal's source, which was starting to move; so, so, so, so interesting! Three seconds.

BellaDonna: All set, sweetie. Be careful…

BeanBagBunnies: Don'tworrymum! Igotthis!

With that thought, Sammie connected her Communication App to the Surveyor, highlighted the signal coming from below – it had Aperture tech built into it, so it accepted Sammie's access codes, even though the tech involved was heavily modified – double-checked her firewalls for corruption – all green! – …and selected 'CONNECT'.

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Aperture
Science Innovators

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Now… now I wait.

One minute goes by, according to the timer on my HUD. Nothing. I check the app; the SOS is transmitting just fine. I'll just have to be patient.

While I wait, my gaze falls onto the portal gun, sitting on the desk in front of me.

The salt mine, that I can understand; if memory serves – encyclopedias are lifesavers when it comes to research – salt mines are massive constructions, especially the ones under the Great Lakes Region. Odds are the mine I'm stuck in is one of the largest, for it to accommodate nine shafts of indeterminable size.

So, the existence of Aperture isn't completely surprising; an undertaking like this one could be done, if someone's determined enough. I can say what I want about Cave Johnson – absolutely mad, is a term that comes to mind – but determined, he most certainly was.

What is surprising, however, is the fact that there's no historic evidence of this place ever existing. I mean, yeah, sure, if this place was involved with astronauts and Olympians, it's probably a government secret on par with places like Area 51 and the Birdcage.

Frowning, I glare at my timer as it ticks over three minutes. It doesn't make any sense…

These portals, while using an utterly ridiculous method of powering their deployment, should have been one of the most, if not the most, revolutionary discovery in human history; intercontinental distances, reduced to nearly nothing, all in an instant. Evacuations for Endbringer attacks would take mere minutes, if the system is done correctly; other Tinkers, like Dragon or Armsmaster, would be able to replicate and use tech like this to get that done quickly and efficiently. They're the greatest Tinkers in the world, of course they could do it!

So why is this place abandoned?! Why is none of the tech I've found being distributed?

Mantis men.

I grit my teeth and suppress another shudder. Good god, what was Mr. Johnson thinking?! Or rather, did he ever stop and wonder, instead of whether or not he could, should he mess with the natural order?

Probably not. The impression I got from that news article painted the man as someone who'd lived a life of comfort and luxury, never worrying about anything, going through life without a care in the world.

Given the casualties this place had, when it was still open, it's likely the government cut their funding and ordered them shut down, or else. Taking some of humanity's best and brightest and throwing their lives away, all to further some insane vision of "Science".

That still raises the question, though… why wasn't the useful tech taken out of here? Was this place simply too dangerous, the substances and tech developed by Aperture too deadly or unusual, for the US government to want to take?

Ugh. More questions. More mysteries. And I still don't know how the hell I got down here!

'The locker…' I shiver, remembering that dark, filthy awfulness, '…I'm… crying for help… then just crying… and it all goes dark…'

Something came after the dark, but I can't remember. Trying hurts. And just remembering what I'd gone through, not a few hours ago, is enough to make my heart pound awfully hard. Which is bad. I can't panic, or get too excited, or whatever's in my lungs – or bloodstream, as my skin was exposed for a while, too, and it took me until getting here, the lobby, to wash out any cuts with a little water – will make breathing harder. Which might kill me faster.

Almost five minutes, now. My mouth is dry from all this morbid thinking. A sip of water, through the straw that runs under my jumpsuit and into my mask. It's not cold, but it's clean.

Still nothing. Just a light static.

'I'm over a kilometer underground,' I remind myself with a sigh, picking up the portal gun and reattaching it to my arm, 'At least. Maybe three or four, given how deep some salt mines go, and this one's hardly par-for-the-course,' I make my way back into the trophy room, and stare nervously at the menacing door into the unknown depths of Aperture, 'On top of that, I'm in friggin Michigan. It'll be awhile before the PRT or Guild picks up my signal-'

Then, to the accompaniment of a click in my ears and the cessation of static, the notification I've been waiting for appears across the bottom middle of my HUD: Connection Established.

'OH THANK SCION!' I nearly weep with joy; there's someone out there! Composing myself quickly, I let out one more cough and call dryly into my mic, "H-Hello? Is anyone there?"

After a beat of silence, which almost feels eternal, the strangely tinny voice of a young girl pipes up; she sounds very curious, "Hi! Who are you?"

'Crap, I don't even have a cape name!' thinking quickly, I decide to hell with it, I want out of here more than I want to be a superhero! "M-My name's Taylor. A-are you with the PRT?" Kind of doubtful, because… well, she sounds like a kid!

A pause, then, "Uh, no… I'm Sammie! I'm one of Aperture Laboratories' Assistant Supervisors!" okay, so I've got an employee; good enough, even though it looks like they're not observing child labor laws, either. Maybe she's a genius? "We detected your SOS a couple minutes ago, but it took us some time to triangulate the signal," that's… less good. How far down am I? "What are you doing down there?"

The last hours of trauma and insanity show in my frustrated response, "Honestly, Sammie, I don't even know. One second I'm…" the locker, "I-I'm…" bugs, blood, awful, tampons, I can't escape someonepleasehelp-

My interlocutor's calm voice cuts through the roaring in my ears, "Taylor, listen: imagine that it's a nice sunny day. You're at your favorite park, and there's birds chirping, squirrels squirreling, and a warm wind is caressing your face. You're safe. Nothing is going to go wrong, I promise."

I gulp down my sorrow, and my fear… and let out a choked cough, followed by more coughs; ow. "S-Sorry, but… I can't… remember what happened…" I trail off miserably. I'm such a coward...

"That's okay, Taylor," assures the childlike voice with an edge of concern, "We'll come back to that, once you're up here and safe. Now, my manager wants me to ask a few questions, pertaining to your current situation. Do you think you're up for it?"

I nod, then kick myself, and say hoarsely, "I, uh, think so. Yeah." I blink away the remaining tears and stare at the door into the Enrichment Shaft, "Ask away."

"Great! Okay, let's see here…" there's a moment where Sammie hums a little to herself, "Right. Firstly, where exactly did you arrive in the shaft?"

Easy, "There's a big… cavern," I glance over my shoulder, and wince, "Sorry, I, uh, don't know which way is north or south. Pretty sure it's somewhere behind me, though. W-with respect to my, uh, current orientation?" I feel kind of foolish. Maybe I should've made a compass?

"Good enough! Alllright, next question: while in the area you arrived in, did you come across any boxes with the word 'Aperture' printed on?"

Oh. I look at the device on my right arm, and frown, "I'm… actually wearing some of your company's tech, Sammie. I found a pair of, uh, really good boots… and a Handheld Quantum Tunneling Device." Maybe they didn't mean to throw this stuff away? How are they in business? Are they making Endbringer shelters on the quiet, supplying Fortress Constructions, the company who made the current shelter system, behind the scenes?

"Oh, fantastic!" squees Sammie; I can almost imagine her bouncing in a seat, "I mean, it's great that you're not dead or anything… unless you're a zombie?" she finishes in a suspicious tone.

I reply with two coughs, before growling, "No, Sammie. Pretty sure I'm not a zombie. Not yet, anyway…" a realization dawns on me, sending a chill through my blood, and I whisper, "Please tell me there's no zombies down here."

"Um… okay, one, that was a small joke, trying to liven things up… and two, why would there be zombies down there, Taylor?" she sounds honestly confused, a little worried really.

Which doesn't do much for my already flagging confidence in their ability to rescue me; also, I've wasted a good bit of time, so I should really get this out of the way, and try getting to them… unless they have a rescue team on standby.

"Sammie, can I ask you a question?"

"Of course!"

I take as deep a breath as I dare, and ask, "Is someone coming to rescue me? I'm kind of lost here…"

"We're working on that as we speak, Taylor, but it'll take quite a bit of time. You're pretty far down," there's a note in her voice I don't like, "Gimme a second, I'll connect to the camera on the portal gun," this thing has a camera?!

"This thing has a camera?" cough. Ow. Stupid lungs.

"Yup!" a beep comes out of the gun, "It's for monitoring Test Subjects who are participating in high-difficulty Enrichment Center Activities; some of those chambers don't have observation platforms or cameras, due to their environments," okayyy, I… guess that makes sense, in a really twisted sort of way? "Wow. That place looks, uh… pretty dirty."

"Sammie. Rescue. When?" I bite out, losing what little patience I have left, in the face of her drifting attention.

"Oh, sorry. I just wanted to get an idea of what it looks like down there, and what your health is like; the portal gun tracks that kinda stuff, heart rate, immune system, you get it I'm sure. That cough you've got doesn't sound good… oh…" that one word sends a spike of fear into my heart; Sammie's shaky tone as she continues doesn't help, "Okay, Taylor, I've got good news, bad news, and worse news. How do you want this?"

Closing my eyes, I whisper, "Reverse order, Sammie." may as well get this over with, find out just how unfortunate I am, health-wise...

"Straight to the point, huh?" she sounds regretfully humored by my response, but goes on in as serious a voice someone who sounds like they're 12 can get, "First up, the portal gun's telling me you've got some kind of bacterial or fungal infection working its way through your bloodstream. Bright side is, your immune system's giving as good as it's getting, but the human body has limits; best case scenario, your lungs flood and you asphyxiate 75 hours from now. Try not to exert yourself too hard, because that'll knock hours off your life pre-tty quickly!"

Thankfully, Sammie gives me a moment to come to terms with my impending mortality. I use that time to focus on my breathing, and try to come up with some kind of Tinkertech that'll save my life. I can't think of anything, to my grief, and trying to force it gives me a mild headache, so I stop.

I have to escape. I have to. Swallowing nothing, I ask quietly, "If, um, I get up to where you are…" I trail off meaningfully.

"We've got a fully-stocked medical wing, all ready for you, Taylor," assures Sammie readily, "Even if that infection eats most of your vitals and muscles, we should be able to rebuild you; we can clone anything that might need replacing, 'cept your brain, so take care of that. Plus side is that your immune system seems to be fighting tooth and nail to keep it away from your heart, liver, and brain. What's up with your lungs, though?"

Around another light cough, I reply, "Inhaled some dust, back in the… I dunno, support structure? There were columns," I add to a questioning sound from the only person I've talked to in hours, "I'm using a gasmask to mitigate exposure, but… well, I wasn't able to make anything really secure until just now." Risky, outing myself, but maybe telling them about my abilities will make them rush to the rescue? It's a long-shot, but…

Sammie is quiet for exactly three seconds; when she speaks again, she's back to being serious, "We'll come back to that one. Okay, bad news: the part of the facility you're stuck in wasn't in our files; we honestly didn't even know it was there until you started transmitting that SOS."

My mouth falls open in shock and horror, and stays that way, as Sammie continues in a regretful tone, "I'm really, really sorry, Taylor; to be perfectly honest, the people who founded this place were madmen of the highest order. There's convicted serial killers with more empathy than the scientists who sealed off that part of the facility and tried to bury their past. We're working on de-fragging the servers and mapping that shaft with ground-penetrating lasers, get an idea of just what they were doing down there, but we do know this for sure: whatever brought you here is also likely what ended up destroying part of this facility with a massive release of energy. It's also down there, in that shaft, about halfway between you and me."

I latch on to Sammie's mention of not knowing what they were doing down here, and blurt into her pause for breath, "Mantis men."

There's a small splutter, then, "Beg pardon?"

I turn on my heel, pan the portal gun around the trophy room, and ask, "You seeing this Sammie?" At her confirmation, I go on in a hard voice, "This place has been around since the late 1940's. There's pre-recorded messages that play at intervals; the previous owner of Aperture, Cave Johnson, said something about having test subjects fight an army of mantis men, and something about Repulsion Gel. I'm guessing you guys won't be able to get to me for a while," I let out a humorless laugh, and turn back to the door, "probably because your facility would fall into this shaft if you try cutting down here. So I'll come to you, hope there aren't any mantis men left," a painful cough rips out of my lungs, and I finish weakly, "…and try not to die in the process."

Sammie sounds like she's having a crisis, but manages to rally quickly, "Okay, okay, oh holy petabyte, this isn't good… okay. I just contacted my supervisor, she's gonna feed me info on stuff you're seeing, while using the portal gun's feed as reference for de-fragging our records; the more you see, the more we all know, the better your odds of survival,"

That sounds great to me, and I say so, before stepping closer to the door; Sammie continues speaking, determinedly, sounding like she's trying to encourage me, "While my fellow Aperture employees work on getting you out of that shaft, I'm gonna be right here, helping you, and making sure you're not alone Taylor. We've got two specialists who are getting ready to come get you, soon as they get briefed and we find a way to get to you. We will rescue you, Taylor, but you've got to get a little closer to us first. Whatever happens, you can't give up."

Those final words actually bring a small smile to my face. Nearly two years of bullying, and it takes getting shoved into the locker, nearly dying, and entering a contaminated, sealed-off section of a cutting-edge laboratory… for someone to actually get on my side. We'll see if it lasts.

She's already said that Aperture will be able to rebuild me; hopefully, it won't come to that. I might not be pretty, shapely, or… well, attractive in any way, but I like my body. So… I'll pace myself, and try not to give the mad scientists a reason to tear me apart and put me back together. Though I would like a new set of lungs, right about now.

Regardless of Sammie's honesty, or my doubts, I won't give up. Can't give up. I will get out of here. I will survive, if only to spite the trio. I'll hug Dad again, and… and visit Mom. God, I hope she's watching over me.

Until I get out, though, it's just me, the portal gun, my Tinkertech, and Sammie, the bubbly Assistant Supervisor in my ear.

"Copy that, Sammie," I reply, and take the last step. The automated door opens, and the Geiger counter starts ticking a little faster.

I better hurry, but not too much. Don't want to drown in my own blood.

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Aperture
Science Innovators

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I'm approaching the elevator – now lit up, but it doesn't look like it goes anywhere, once I get to the top; all the walkways have long rotted away… high ground is better than down here – when Sammie speaks up curiously again.

"So, uh, you say you built your mask?" I hum in affirmation, and press the 'UP' button; it works, "Are you an engineer?"

"No," I say, then figure there's no use denying it, "I'm a Tinker."

The elevator moves for a few seconds in silence. Pretty smooth ride, actually; maybe the oil's better than what city hall uses? Not rickety at all, even with all the rust around me…

"What's a Tinker?" I blink, kind of surprised – justifiably so – at the question, but Sammie rambles on, "I mean, it sounds like you're saying you're someone who plays with technology, tinker and all, but I heard a capital letter there, so… uh, is that some position under the Combine or…"

I blink again, and the elevator completes its ascent with a dull clank; I hardly notice, "Combine?" What does agricultural equipment have to do with anything… unless it means something else?

"Yeah… Black Mesa? The invasion?" I don't say anything, wondering what Sammie's talking about, a cold suspicion starting to take hold in my mind, "You don't know about the Combine…" it's not a question, obviously, as it's said with incredulity and a little wonder.

Meanwhile, I have a fairly good idea of what's going on, and, hoping I'm wrong, reply with, "Ever heard of Scion? Leviathan? Parahumans?"

Both of us are silent, staring at the gargantuan sphere before me – I have the portal gun raised – for a long, long moment.

Then I swear softly, stepping off the elevator and looking around, "Shit, I should've known." Really, it's obvious in hindsight…

"What?" Sammie sounds a little distressed; can't really blame her, "What should you have known?!"

I don't answer immediately, instead panning the portal gun around and inspecting my surroundings; the cage and tube under that huge sphere look like an elevator of some kind, with a strange blue glow emanating from it. To its left, a large building juts out of the bedrock, ALPHA written in white on a blue background, near the bottom, along with a broken walkway and another push door; large pipes, like what one might find in a pumping station, slither hither and yon out of the mass of concrete. One of them goes directly into the sphere.

'Pumping station… gel. Yeah,' I blow out a sigh, and start looking around for a way over; too far to rappel, so… 'That's probably where I need to go…'

"Taylor?!" Oh, right, Sammie.

I cough, more to clear my throat, and reply wearily, "One of us – not sure if it's you or me, or both of us – isn't on their home planet anymore. I think. Maybe," who knows, really? "On my world, there was someone named Professor Haywire. He found a way to contact other dimensions, and built a small portal to another Earth. It was different, in that there weren't as many Parahumans as our own world. He also theorized that there's an infinite number of potential Earths, but he… got killed, before he could prove it."

Not mentioning the Simurgh out loud. Don't want to jinx it.

After a brief pause, during which I find a distant catwalk and outbuilding that's painted partially white – oh, and this wall's white too! Portal here – Sammie asks, "So, uh, what's a Parahuman?"

"Person with superpowers. Don't ask where they come from," portal there, look through the blue one next to me; catwalk looks sturdy, not too much rust, "I, uh, kind of just got my powers. And no one really knows where they come from, anyway, even though it's been, like," pause to cough, "thirty years since they started showing up."

"Oh, I get it!" bubbles Sammie while I step through the portal; more VITRIFIED doors, terrific, "So, like, people get superpowers, and then they can start doing Science?" Huh?

I pause in my trying to figure out how to get to that pumping station, and turn her words over in my mind, "Uh… you, um, mean, does everyone become a Tinker?"

"Oh, that's a classification, isn't it? Figures there'd be others; what are they? Also," she adds helpfully, "try putting a portal on the roof; I'll have someone do some measurements." Oh. Uh. Okay?

I do as she says as I answer, "Uh, yeah. Parahumans break the laws of physics in a variety of ways," cough, walk over to the portal; why's she having me do this? "Tinker, for tech; Breaker, for, um… well, for a couple things, changing their own physical state, I think. Movers either run fast or fly. Shakers effect the environment. Brutes are really strong, Strikers hit hard or produce effects when they hit something, Blasters shoot lasers and stuff… uh, Thinkers can… well, think good," we share a chuckle; it feels good to talk to someone again, even if it's about cape stuff.

"Alright, I think I got it. Each Parahuman gains powers – somehow – and starts bending some aspect of the world to their will, right?"

I nod, with a smile, "Yeah! I, uh, guess. Again," I shrug, even though she can't really see it, "still new to this. I haven't even been one for a day. I'm just a cape geek…" shut up, Taylor.

"Well, I think you're doing pretty well, Taylor!" she replies brightly, while I start looking at this problem from a different angle; the portal on the roof is pretty much lined up with that rotted walkway… oh. "You've incorporated Aperture tech into your gear, if what I'm seeing is right, so you shouldn't have any trouble with the MEG's! Plus, you're surviving! Yay!"

"ME-what now?" I ask even as my stomach begins to plummet again; there was a white square, underneath the elevator, at the bottom of that tower. Why me?

"Material Emancipation Grills," Sammie explains in a clinical tone, "or MEG's, will dissolve any non-approved equipment that passes through them. I've tagged everything on you for approval; even though I can't really understand what you're wearing, I can still see the Aperture stuff – nice job modifying our desktop OS, by the way," a small feeling of pride in my power warms me, "but-but, uh, you shouldn't have any issue going through them."

I take a moment to cough, check my filters – not so bad – and ask nervously, "Risks?"

"You don't have any fillings, cavities, or a history of ear infections, do you?" at my hesitant, negative reply, Sammie chirps, "So no worries! You'll be fine," …well, she is a scientist… in a facility with other scientists… I shouldn't worry about this too much. More important things at hand.

"O-kay, now… sorry, again, but you're gonna have to get to that pumping station. And, well… the best way is-"

I interrupt her in a flat voice, moving back to stand directly beneath the portal on the roof, in front of the first sealed door, "To somehow launch myself through the air, above a lake of water that will dissolve me if I come into contact with it," she hisses in sympathy, "and land on a probably weakened walkway, which will hopefully hold long enough for me to make the door."

"I'm sorry," Sammie apologizes in a small voice, "I, uh, can't see any other way."

Lifting my arm, I look at the plate that hides my rappel gun… then look at my destination. The door looks solid, and the frame is made of metal…

And I smirk, "Yeah, I think I got this."